Developing Reflexes

It was a large Reflex Development class Friday night, including four Master Cycle students. Often the MCers are paired with lowly white belts like me so as to help us. One of those MC women loves to be helpful, which is great, but also… not helpful. Should I be paired with her, I was formulating how I might kindly ask her to let me think through the moves rather than her telling me them.

When it was time to partner up, I hung back, letting the chips fall where they may, and taking whomever Instructor assigned me. Everyone who stepped from the wall looked around at each other and quickly paired up. By staying against the wall, I became invisible. Thus, a new strategy was born. When there’s an odd number of people (and I’m the oddest one), the straggler goes to…

Surfer Dude.

Score!

He’s second in command and sometimes teaches, giving Instructor a day off. In fact, recently, I was demo partner with SD instead of being the SD (demo partner) for Instructor. That was kind of trippy and fun.

Come on, Betsy, get it! SD loves to make me work for those arm bars. Instructor has since taught me a new way to break the arm free. My first thought was, “I’ve got to remember to use this on SD.”

Partnering with SD meant top notch training time. “Retighten after you grab your wrist,” he said at one point. That I had forgotten. “Grab this wrist,” another time. That I should have known. When I completed one move, I thought correctly, he said, “What’s missing?” I didn’t know. “I’m still on my back. I’m supposed to be on my side.” Arg!

Sometimes I would try to do a move and he would. Not. Let me. Then I’d say, “What am I forgetting?” And he’d wait a second. I’d say, “Oh, yeah,” and switch to the correct grips. Perfect training partner!

Added bonus: Because he didn’t really need to take a turn doing the moves, it meant more reps for me, and he was amiable enough to let me practice moves not on the menu, like the dastardly triangle choke: his favorite, and my hardest for whatever weird mental-block reason.

“Cross your ankles,” he said. Doy! “Head control.” OF COURSE! “That was two point deductions, but at least you knew what they were.” Son of a biscuit.

You’re only allowed 10 mistakes to pass the test, and there are 36 lessons, each with several slices, and about 5 thousand 3 hundred billion point 75 quatrillion details each.

Sigh.

When the camera was near, he took a turn. “You’re trying to make up for that picture of me planting a foot on you, aren’t you?” He chuckled.

But, there were high points in this particular class:

Instructor demonstrated a few times with Thoughtful One, a blue belt, and a couple of times even with me. Honored! Fortunately, I didn’t make any mistakes when he had me be “good guy” and do the moves.

Another time, he announced the next moves for free-style fight simulation. “Do this, this, then this. Anyone want to see it first?”

“No,” I said.

“Yes,” a woman said at the same time.

“No,” Instructor looked at me. “Yes,” he looked at the other woman then back at me.

I shrugged as in, “Whatever. Either way.”

“Want to show them?” he asked me.

I stood and he immediately charged at me, arm cocked for a punch. I ducked, caught his hip, spun behind him. “Nice S-grip,” he said. Block the ankle, rear takedown, lean south, swing the leg, arm bar, done. People clapped.

“You got a clap for that,” he said. “They should have clapped longer. That was perfect.”

It actually was not perfect. When I took him to the ground, I watched in horrified slow-mo as my elbow hit the mat a half second before my shoulder.

Point deduction.

Instructor didn’t see that because he was in front of me, but the test will be filmed so he can carefully scrutinize every millisecond. (When I took him down in class the next morning, however, my elbow tuck was perfect. I drummed the mat several times in celebration before letting him up. :P)

Later in class, that nearby woman said to Instructor, “She’s great,” pointing at me. Then she turned to me and said, “Whenever you’re here, we are so impressed by you,” indicating her perma-partner and herself.

I inclined my head toward a shoulder. “Awwww,” I said.

But I wonder if you caught the real accomplishment in the above story. It wasn’t the students clapping or the kudos. It was that he asked if I wanted to show the move, and I got up without a moment’s hesitation. To be attacked by Instructor. In front of everyone.

When he asked, in a flash my mind said, “I’ve got this.” And that’s kind of amazing.

Oh, yeah. One other highlight. (Finally! someone is thinking. 😉 )

Mrs. Instructor in the houuuuusssseeeee! We even rolled a bit together, which was fun.

We still haven’t rescheduled our play date, but at that time, I had told her, “We have to be sure to get a pic together for the blog.” She said, “Thanks for telling me in advance. That way I can be sure I don’t look dead inside.” Haha!

Can you see why I like her?

SD was our cameraman. “You look sort of mellow,” he told us. “Is that what you’re going for?”

“Tell us a funny joke,” I said.

“I can’t think of any.”

“I know. SD trying to write song lyrics.”

That did it! He smiled too, but said, “That one hurt me.”

“Just messing with you,” I told him. If I ever do hear or read one of his songs, I should tell him for every line I don’t like, he gets a point deduction.

Trivia!

Last post I was quoting Dave Matthews Band lyrics, by way of your trivia Q answer. Here’s the next question:

She played Princess Mia Thermopolis of Genovia and shares a name with Shakespeare’s wife.